by Thomas Locke
The kitchen opened through the doorway directly opposite Dally’s chair. Behind Dally was the boot room and weapons closet, and beyond them the passage leading to stables and storerooms and kennels and training grounds. The estate was rimmed by a high wall with guard towers set in each corner. The rearmost area of the yard held a vast kitchen garden and coops for chickens and geese.
Gert scowled in Dally’s direction. “Don’t think much of the banker’s guests being back here in our space. Eating our food. Fouling the place with their dogs. Don’t think much of that at all.”
The cook was a rotund little man who glanced worriedly through the doorway and said, “The master left strict instructions . . .”
Gert shifted his glower, and the cook vanished. Gert shouted after him, “Where’s my dinner?”
“Coming, coming, I wanted to reheat the stew, is all.” He popped back into view long enough to add, “And let our guests eat in peace like the master said.”
“Enough with the master. I know well enough what best suits his needs.” Gert reached across the table, knocking Alembord’s arm and causing him to spill a spoonful into his lap. “And what’s needed is to have this lot back out on the street where they belong. Not here eating the master’s food and bringing who knows what trouble to our doorstep.” He gnawed off a hunk of cheese that dribbled crumbs down his front. “Uncommon strange it is, having his lordship order us to make room for the likes of you, no proper introduction, all in a rush, ordering me to ask no questions. Me, captain of his guard, commanded to mind you lot like I was—”
Gert stopped talking because he had suddenly lost the ability to draw breath.
Edlyn did not look around. “A bit of food get in the way, did it?” Her voice was mild, but not the least bit kind.
“Difficult to make trouble for others when you can’t breathe,” Alembord said. “It’s a good thing the lady here has a hand in the healing arts.”
The captain’s fists rose to his throat, and he made a harsh gagging noise.
“I could probably help you,” Edlyn said. She turned in her seat. “But in return we’d appreciate a bit of peace and quiet.”
“A friendly welcome would be nice,” Alembord said. He continued to feed spoonfuls of stew to his wolfhound. “Probably what your master ordered as well.”
“Nod if you agree to our terms,” Edlyn said.
Gert gagged and coughed and finally complied.
“That’s a good lad. Now bend down here. I don’t feel like getting up. I’m still enjoying this fine repast.” When Gert did so, Edlyn touched his throat. “There. All better.”
The guards captain coughed, hacked, and heaved a great breath. “You caused that, you did.”
Alembord stroked his dog’s ears. “If that’s so, how wise is it for you to stand there and bait her?”
“Peace and quiet,” Edlyn said. “A nice welcome. Pleasant words or none at all directed our way. That’s the ticket.” She looked up at him, and something he saw there caused him to step back. “And not another word about skinning dogs.”
The banker entered the pantry just as they were finishing their meal. His name was Karsten, and he was every inch a patrician, with leonine features and strong limbs that defied his age. An abundance of silver hair swept back from a broad forehead. His glare was ferocious, his voice a resonant thunder. He took in the tableau with one swift glare, Gert standing in the kitchen doorway and spooning up the stew as he shot Dally’s group venomous looks.
Karsten demanded, “Which of you is the Lord Reime’s daughter?”
“I am, sir,” Dally replied.
“Why are you back here with my staff?”
“I insisted. I do not wish to be separated from my company.”
Karsten disliked it but did not argue. Instead, he gestured at his guards captain and demanded, “Is this man bothering you?”
“There’s no problem,” Alembord said. “Is there, Gert?”
Gert pointed at Alembord with his spoon. “Got the look of trouble, this one. He’s nobody’s house servant, that’s for certain.”
But the banker wasn’t having any of it. “This woman’s company are my personal guests. I left word to that effect with the night guard before setting out. What is more, the Count Reime is one of my most important clients. Which means they are vital to the future of this household.”
Gert continued to scowl at the table. “None of us have a future, if this lot’s carting trouble with them. The streets are full of danger and woe—”
“Enough,” Karsten snapped. “Their disposition is vital. Their well-being is vital. Their comfort and safety are . . .”
Gert scowled but conceded, “Vital, your lordship.”
“Good. We understand each other.” He turned back to Dally. “My lady, if you are quite finished, perhaps you will be so good as to attend me.”
The banker’s former chambers were palatial in size and décor. His offices covered a full five rooms, each grander than the last. He ignored the greetings cast his way by various clerks and assistants, and ushered them into his inner sanctum, a space larger than Honor’s village hall. A senior aide and private secretary both entered after him and were genuinely shocked when Karsten sent them away.
When the door was shut, he said, “I have done as my unseen allies have requested.”
“Demanded,” Edlyn corrected. “The Ashanta made no simple request. They ordered you to help us.”
He strode behind the massive desk and dropped frowning into his chair. “I would ask that you tell me why we are meeting at all.”
Dally was accompanied by Edlyn and Alembord and Connell. They stood on a carpet woven with gold thread. The paintings adorning the side walls were ancient and very large. A tapestry covered the entire rear wall, depicting a group of nobles kneeling in fealty before a newly crowned king.
Edlyn repeated what Bryna had told them before their departure. “You served the last two Oberon kings. Your father and grandfather and his father before him. Your loyalty to the crown stretches back eleven generations.”
“Twelve,” Karsten said. “I make an even dozen.”
“You survived the transition and helped to keep the Ashanta in their territories by agreeing to the new king’s ultimatum. You forgave the debts owed to you by the Oberon realm. Forty tons of Ashanta gold. Lost.”
“The new ruler threatened to strip the Ashanta of their territories, by war if need be. Territories that had been deeded to them by treaty a thousand years ago,” Karsten said. “Treaties that should not be influenced by any transition of power within the human realm.”
“You and the Ashanta both expected to recoup some of your losses by charging the new rulers a higher rate of interest,” Edlyn went on. “But the crown has taken his business to other bankers. You have effectively been shut out.”
“And you are certainly well informed.” Karsten’s piercing gaze was shadowed by his massive forehead, a brow made for frowning. “All that you have related is both secret and highly sensitive.”
Edlyn’s only response was to turn to Alembord and say, “Our lady should sit.”
“Of course.”
Karsten clearly disliked having control of his room taken over by this supposed house servant. Which was why Dally did not object as Alembord carried over a leather chair embossed with a royal seal. “Thank you.”
Edlyn rested one hand upon the chair’s back. “Because you represent a debt that will never be repaid, your remaining here in Port Royal places you and all your household under a very grave risk.”
“And yet here I remain,” Karsten said.
“Precisely.”
He crossed his arms and scowled at them. “You are not from the House Reime.”
“That is correct.”
“You chose that fief as your supposed locale because it is so remote,” Karsten said. “And thus would not be known by the city’s militia.”
“We did not choose anything,” Edlyn replied. “As you well know.”
/>
He drummed his fingers on the leather-topped desk. “All right. I’m listening.”
Alembord said, “The question is, who else might be doing the same?”
“This is the only room in the house where eavesdropping is forbidden.”
“In that case”—Edlyn gestured to Dally—“allow me to introduce Lady Dahlrin, Seer to the Lady Shona, new queen of the human realm.”
Dally stifled her protest. Though Edlyn had warned her that this would be required, she detested this elevation of her status. She felt as though her title and abilities, even this alteration to her name, were little more than loudly spoken lies.
Astonishment fractured Karsten’s tightly assured gaze. “Can you offer some form of confirmation?”
“Alembord.”
He crossed the room and extended one fist. In it rested Shona’s personal seal. “Do you recognize this?”
“I . . . yes.”
“Lady Dahlrin is here as the queen’s personal representative,” Edlyn said. “You will listen. And then you will obey.”
41
Karsten did not take Dally’s news well. “You want me to leave Port Royal?”
“You and all your household,” Dally confirmed. “Tonight.”
“But . . . what on earth for?”
Alembord remained poised by the massive desk. “Because if you stay, you die.”
The banker studied the officer’s grim resolve. “And you are . . .”
“Second in command of the Lady Shona’s palace guard,” Edlyn replied. “And this man here is Connell, former Master Wizard of Emporis, now serving on the queen’s staff. And I am Mistress of the Three Valleys Long Hall.”
Karsten paled. “Magic has been released into the realm?”
“It has been ever since the new king defeated the Oberons,” Alembord said. “As you well know.”
“Yes, of course, the dark forces, we suspected . . .” He searched the faces, one after the other. “Tonight?”
“If you go, you survive,” Edlyn said.
Alembord added, “What is more, you can return in the company of your queen. In triumph. Once the dark forces now in control of Port Royal are vanquished.”
He swallowed hard. “When will the attack begin?”
Dally replied, “The hour after dawn.”
“At curfew’s end,” Alembord said. “While the city guard changes shift.”
Edlyn said, “You must be well gone by then.”
He fumbled with the arms of his chair, as if seeking the strength to rise. “What about my allies?”
They had discussed this long and hard during the trek into Port Royal.
“Every person you warn increases the threat of your capture,” Dally said.
“And our defeat,” Edlyn said. “You risk everything by telling the wrong clan.”
“Family first,” Alembord said. “And only those allies whose loyalty is beyond question.”
Karsten rose in stages, his movements as guarded as an old man’s. “I suppose I should begin.”
“One more thing,” Dally said. “I need a way to be transported through the city.”
“We need to survey the field of battle,” Alembord explained. “Lady Dahlrin needs to be seen as both an invalid and a woman of power.”
Despite having this conflict brought into his home, the banker nodded and replied, “I have just the thing.”
42
To his credit, Karsten was there to see them off. He indicated a pile of oilskins by his front portal. “A storm is coming in from the sea. You would be advised to carry these, unless your plans require you to return soaking wet.”
Alembord asked, “Your house emblem is not to be found on them?”
“Credit me with a minimum of intelligence.” Karsten indicated a wooden wheelchair waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “This was my late mother’s. It should serve you well enough.”
Dally quailed at the attention this would draw her way. But Edlyn said, “This is perfect. Again, our thanks.”
“Weapons are expected of house guards these days.” He pointed to the long staves stacked along the front wall. “These are the sort of pikes used by most city militia. You’re certain you know where to find my family’s healer?”
“I was stationed here for five summers,” Alembord replied.
“Which clan did you serve?”
“House Laman.”
“The count was a good man, and a friend.” Karsten’s scowl deepened as a line of empty wagons and carriages trundled through his front gates. A dozen household guards were saddling horses as Gert stomped about the side yard and shouted at all who came within range. Karsten said, “It is a shame I am now forced to share his ignoble fate.”
Dally cut off any response Alembord might have made by stepping between them. “I and the next queen of the realm offer our heartfelt thanks.”
His gaze remained locked upon the pending departure from his home and heritage. “And I’ll thank you not to make this peril to myself and my family a vain effort.”
The healer used by the banker’s family was located at the point where the city began its northern curve around the harbor. As they left Karsten’s compound, Alembord explained that the physician’s location was ideal, as it granted them a reason to walk through the city’s heart. The chair’s wheels squeaked and clattered and announced their passage to everyone within hearing range. They took the most direct line, which kept them to fairly crowded lanes. They crossed a small market where some of the stalls were already closing down, as though racing the sunset. They were inspected by a number of patrols and household militia. Some glances were given to the size of Dally’s team, but even this was not too unusual for such fearsome times.
The healer used by Karsten’s clan was a potbellied man who clearly cared very little for his appearance. He wore a formal shirt whose right sleeve was stained with ink and a broad belt that did nothing to keep his gut under control. He peered at Dally from beneath a bird’s nest of cotton-white hair. She liked him at first sight. His home was cheerful, the two apprentices who served him intelligent and anxious to please.
His inspection lasted all of ten minutes. “Wasting disease,” he declared.
Edlyn was the only one of their group who had accompanied Dally into the healer’s quarters. “You are certain?”
“No question. None whatsoever.”
“And a cure?”
“None that work, madam. Nor even that might offer a small hope.”
“We were told otherwise.”
“One of those hawkers by the outer gates, no doubt.” He made a note in his ledger, then used his cuff to blot the notations dry. “The healers they serve mix potions with gold dust and rare herbs. They bleed their patients and insist on daily steam baths in chambers filled with noxious odors from burning weeds. All this does no good whatsoever. A number of my unscrupulous colleagues have grown rich as a result of this disease.”
Dally asked, “The ailment is widespread?”
“I see a dozen patients like you each day, my lady. More, now that the hill roads are free from the threat of snow.”
“Do you know of anyone who has been healed?”
“Not even among those who have the gold and the influence to visit the royal family’s own physicians. No doubt you heard that the Port Royal healers possess secret magical powers. I am sorry, my lady. I can offer something to ease discomfort. Nothing more.”
Dally persisted, “Have you ever known an illness before when no one recovers?”
“No. And that’s a mystery, I do admit.”
Edlyn said, “So there’s nothing you can do.”
“We do not even know what it is, nor where it comes from, nor why it chose this particular time to attack. This city is as clean as it has ever been. There is no infestation of rats. Nor any ailment brought upon a plague ship. The water supply has been deemed pure. The air, the flocks . . .” He used both hands to sweep back his hair, leaving a blue stain upon his forehea
d. “I dread the numbers of hopeless cases that will arrive with the high summer. I’ve heard some towns now hold more afflicted than healthy.”
“And yet some regions remain untouched.”
“Aye, so I’ve seen with my own eyes. One town is filled with people who can scarcely drag themselves through another day, and the next contains not a single afflicted. They claim it’s because of better air, lives better lived, they claim this, they claim that. I think . . .” The healer paused.
“Go on,” Dally urged. “Please.”
“There’s a few ancient texts that speak of regions protected by convexes of hidden powers. Orb havens, they were called. What that means, I have no idea. But there are towns and even whole regions that remain untouched by the scourge.”
“Orb havens,” Edlyn murmured. “Now that is truly a marvel.”
Dally asked, “What happens to such as me?”
The doctor’s eyes glittered birdlike beneath his unruly hair. “My lady, it is not pleasant.”
“I want to know.”
“Very well, then, I will tell you. The plague’s name says it all. The afflicted waste away.” His expression was grave and sympathetic both. “The body’s energy gradually slips out, as though it’s sucked from the body. Some endure great pain, others none at all. Some have fevers, others . . .”
“Lie down and do not get up,” Dally said, thinking of Hyam.
“Those who remain conscious lose all interest in food. They must be forced to even swallow liquids. And yet they do not die. They become half alive, entering a state that is neither asleep nor awake.” He shrugged his confusion. “And then there are the most curious of all. Some of the afflicted begin to act and speak in a manner that is entirely different from anything they have ever done before.”
“Angry,” Dally said, thinking of the Ashanta elders. “Hostile. Treating others as though they were enemies.”
“You have witnessed this?”
“From a distance, yes.”
“This manner of affliction seems mostly to attack those in power, which is worrisome indeed.”
Dally caught Edlyn’s hand signal and said, “Thank you, good sir. You have been as helpful as possible, and more honest than most.”
